Hope
by Nitroid
Summary: Skull contemplates the pros and cons of life, and chooses death. Reborn comes to his rescue. Fluff, Adult!Reborn and Adult!Skull.


He was falling.

Skull was sure he let out a scream of pure, unbridled terror.

It wasn't manly, nor was it cool.

He had reason to, after all. There was nothing below him but a wide, black abyss, and before him, a rocky dark brown cliff with sparse trees and three men garbed in dark suits holding guns.

One of them snickered as they watched him make a steady decline.

It wasn't a pleasant sight.

Nor was this the way he wanted to die, but who really gets lucky enough to plan the way their life ends?

He entered the dark abyss, still falling slowly down the side of the cliff. It was horribly windy. There was pressure on his lungs, but he wasn't screaming anymore. In fact, he was fairly certain he was breathing slowly. It was strange that his breathing was suddenly so calm.

Falling made him feel several notches below panic. It felt like he was floating, really. Being able to see this rocky, mountainous area above him, and the blue, blue sky all around while falling was something like bungee jumping – without harnesses. There were large, puffy white clouds too. They looked so close – close enough for him to reach out and touch them.

There was a whirring of an insect. Maybe it was trying to fly when it could float all it wanted, going down into the dark abyss.

Silly insect.

He didn't care anymore. Maybe this was a better way to die.

The sky grew darker as he fell further. The wind was growing more erratic.

Skull shut his eyes and frowned when he realized the whirring was coming closer. It didn't seem like an insect anymore.

"Grab onto this!" Someone yelled amid the noise.

The whirring got louder, blocking out even the sound of the wind whipping through his hair.

"Open your eyes!"

Out of habit, Skull complied.

There was a helicopter whirring right above him. It was all black and gray and it blocked out the sunlight.

Something long and bright green dangled down before him. It took Skull a few seconds to realize it was a rope ladder – a very unique rope ladder, due to the shimmery, rubbery material it seemed to be made of. The purple haired stuntman looked up and saw a familiar face watching him with the usual blank look, void of expression.

"If you want to live, hold onto that now." Reborn called, one hand on his fedora, the other gripping the steel bar connected to the side of the helicopter.

Did he want to continue living?

Skull didn't know what he wanted.

To grasp onto that rope and pull himself up from danger with the help of Reborn, only to be punched or kicked and pushed around when he was safe and sound again?

He was tired with that old life.

This was the time to start over, like a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis.

Skull ignored the rope, and closed his eyes and ears to Reborn's faint calls. His head was spinning, and his eyes were stinging with the wind. Even if he did grab the rope, he wasn't sure he could really hold onto it long enough to be saved. Besides, he knew one thing.

The helicopter could only descend so far.

x

"Who were those men?" Colonello asked, his hands clenching into fists as he stormed into the room.

Lal shushed him with a stern look. "Keep your voice down. Skull is sleeping in the next room."

Gritting his teeth and inhaling a deep breath to keep his cool, the tall, muscular blond swallowed before speaking once more. "When I find them, I'm going to kill them."

"Trust that we would all do the same, especially me." Reborn said smoothly from his position on the nearest comfortable sofa.

The hitman still wore his fedora indoors, and despite his aloof manner, was flicking the lock on his gun backward and forward – a small but certain sign of anxiety.

"Any news on their identities?" Lal asked Mammon and Verde, who were both leaning over a table with their laptops, running up searches on familiar nemesis associated with the Arcobaleno and Vongola.

"Decimo and his Guardians are doing their best to find out as well, but so far we don't have any leads." Verde squinted at his screen. "Whoever we're dealing with did their homework on covering up tracks."

Mammon just sighed.

Colonello punched the table that was unfortunate enough to be within his reach. "I'll kill them all!"

"Shush!" Lal grabbed him by the shoulder. "I know you're angry; we all are. Just try to keep it in until Skull is conscious enough to give us the details."

"Did you see his body?" Colonello shrugged her hand off as he fumed. "He was covered in bruises! There were knife marks everywhere. He's lost so much blood! Who would do that to a boy?"

Lal bit her lower lip as she tried to hold in her tears. "I know. I know how you feel about this."

Fon guided her to the sofa next to Reborn and dutifully handed her some tissues. "He's going to be alright, don't worry. All we can do now is keep patient, and keep searching."

Reborn stood up and shoved his hands into the pockets of his black slacks. "I'm going to see him."

He passed Colonello, who gave him a curt nod before joining Lal on the couch. Everyone was obviously upset – even Fon, who was normally at peace with anything and everything – and the tension in the room was getting overwhelming.

The soft, steady beeping of the cardiogram next to Skull's hospital bed told him the youth was sleeping. His brain waves, which were being monitored thanks to Verde's high tech computer system, displayed regular sleep patterns on a thin plasma screen.

Skull was healing slowly.

Reborn watched the relaxed face of the boy lying on the bed before him, breathing slow and steady as he rested. Skull's face was void of makeup, leaving him naturally pale – a thick piece of gauze was taped to his left cheek, and a regular sized plaster covered a small scratch on his neck, just inches from his jugular. Whoever had made that wound on the boy had meant business.

The hitman lifted the thin blanket that covered the rest of Skull's body from his waist down. He didn't need to check beneath the youth's white shirt to know his chest and torso had been badly bruised and battered from countless beatings.

His thighs were covered with long gashes – thankfully shallow, though cruelly inflicted – and his right shin had a blooming reddish purple bruise.

So much pain inflicted on someone so young.

Yet Skull had experienced and survived countless accidents that risked his life during his stunt performances. He was still a boy, despite being twenty-two; the youngest of all the ex-Arcobaleno.

There was something very much akin to regret gnawing at the edges of Reborn's conscience. Skull had not gripped the rope when he had asked him to. There had been something of a goodbye in his eyes the last time he had seen him conscious – and that was during the fall.

Reborn regretted not moving quicker when he'd had the chance. He could have saved Skull all this pain.

x

A soft sigh, and bleary, sleep reddened eyes blinked open.

The first thing he heard was the soft beeping in the background. A hospital? Nah, couldn't be. Those dark curtains looked vaguely familiar. He was in one of the Arcobaleno mansion rooms.

"You're awake."

More of a statement than a question.

Skull felt his arm tingle and looked down to see a small tube attached to a needle inside his skin.

Ugh.

"Don't touch that. Just lay back and rest."

"I don't want to." Skull said hoarsely, and looked around for something to drink.

There was a light creak of a chair as the other occupant in the room stood up and walked over to him. The sound of water being poured into a glass could be heard, and then said glass was handed to him.

"Drink."

Skull resisted rolling his eyes – every movement he made caused dull pains all over his body – and sipped at the water.

"How are you feeling?"

"Achy all over. Like I have the flu, but way worse." Skull muttered, setting the glass back on the low bedside table next to him. "I'm on painkillers, aren't I?"

Reborn nodded. "The best grade, courtesy of Verde."

Skull looked away, harbouring a deep contempt for the all knowing black eyes that seemed to read him like a book.

"Why'd you save me?"

"Did you not want me to?"

There was a long silence stretched out between Reborn and Skull. Neither really knew what to say, but both had a dozen and one questions that needed answering. It wasn't awkward, just full of hesitant tension and unspoken words bouncing around the space of the room.

Reborn made the first move.

"I'm sorry."

He hadn't said what he was sorry for – those cruel kicks and punches while he forced Skull to do menial tasks around the mansion, or for the times when Skull made more than three mistakes in a day, or for not rescuing him earlier, when he was still held captive by the bad guys.

Still, his apology meant everything.

Reborn's hand stroked Skull's cheek – his right cheek, which didn't hurt as much as the left one – as he leaned down to place a gentle kiss on the youth's forehead.

Tentatively, Skull raised his head – bearing the pain his nerve impulses were sending to his brain – and let his lips meet Reborn's.

They kissed, lips pushing against lips, until Skull let Reborn slide his tongue in slowly, guiding his own tongue around in gentle circles. Reborn's mouth was hot and moist, and he tasted like wine.

Skull broke the kiss with a soft sigh and pulled away from Reborn. There was a burning question he just had to get out of his system.

"Why'd you save me?"

In reply, Reborn placed one knee to steady himself on the side of Skull's bed, and leaned down to cover his lips with his own once more.

Maybe being alive wasn't such a bad option after all.

x

Experimental Adult!Reborn and Adult!Skull. A very mismatched, awkward couple, but I tend to drift toward the weird.


End file.
